And the Night Goes on Forever
by Dru619
Summary: Filling the prompt of Santana's parents die in a car accident, leaving her to care for her one-year-old brother all alone. She starts to have panic attacks routinely, convinced that she could never be strong enough to care for her brother. Pezberry.
1. Chapter 1

Hey everyone! This is a story in response to the prompt _Santana's parents die in a car accident, leaving her to care for her one-year-old brother all alone. She starts to have panic attacks routinely, convinced that she could never be strong enough to care for her brother, and that she was a terrible role model for him_ from the angst meme over on LJ. I hope you all enjoy it :)

I don't own Glee or any of its awesome ;_; I just bring them out to play now and then!

-Dru

* * *

"Fuck, shit, cock."

The two year old next to her momentarily raised his eyebrows but was otherwise too sleepy to have any other sort of reaction to his sisters' outburst. Santana shoved the car seat over, almost forgetting that her little brother was sitting on the floor of the backseat until the stream of obscenities had left her mouth.

"Shit…I mean…_shoot_. I'm sorry, Adam." She reached down to awkwardly comb her fingers through the toddler's dark, curly hair. Slightly irritated (but, again, too sleepy to really care) Adam half-heartedly pushed Santana's hand away and rested his head against the seat of the car. This was fucking ridiculous and Santana knew it. It was nearly midnight and there she sat outside of her mother's apartment complex, struggling with a car seat she had no idea how to install properly, with a half-conscious two year old sitting on the floor of the backseat. _Real fucking smooth Lopez, _her mind kept saying.

Santana's mother had left nearly 3 years ago, leaving Santana in the custody of her grandmother. 6 months after that she had met Rodriguez (the shithead) and got pregnant with Adam. Santana knew her mother was in to drugs, known that she had chosen them over her own daughter and had later chosen them over her own son. Rodriguez had left during the pregnancy at which time Santana's grandmother stepped back in and worked tirelessly to keep her daughter clean, for the baby's sake. When Adam was born, Santana wasn't really sure how to feel. His eyes were light, like Rodriguez, but the rest was purely her. She loved him, sure, but her mother wasn't much a part of her life anymore.

When Santana had first gotten the call that her mother had been killed in a terrible car accident while under the influence she hadn't believed it. Rodriguez had been her passenger and it was clear what the two of them had been up to. Her mother had left Adam in the care of Santana but since she was only 17 at the time, he had gone to Santana's grandmother. Who had become horribly sick and seemed to only be getting worse as the days went on. Santana had panicked (really and truly panicked) when the flurry of doctors had descended upon her talking about things like a last will and testament and what she planned on doing after her grandmother was gone. They tried being optimistic, but Santana knew they were things that needed to be talked about because the unthinkable was about to happen. Again.

"I just…I need some time," she had pled desperately.

She had taken Adam and ran.

Her grandmother died a few days later.

No one knew it, but Santana had been staying at her mother's old apartment. A neighbor (with a young daughter of her own) watched Adam while Santana went to school. In return, Santana cleaned her apartment on the weekends. It wasn't long before Santana ran out of money to pay the rent and here she was today, with no where to go and unable to see past the next five minutes. Adam yawned and batted at Santana's hand again.

"Nana, sleepy," he declared. "Bed."

"I know you're tired, buddy," she whispered back to him, finally able to click the car seat in to a seemingly un-wobbly position (it was rare that Santana had ever gone out of the house with Adam without help from their neighbor who had, until recently, had Adam's car seat installed in her own car.) She hated leaving without saying goodbye, or letting Adam say goodbye, but she needed to leave and now. She knew she wouldn't have been able to take any more heartbreak. Adam whimpered and with his last bit of energy climbed up on to the empty space near his car seat and finally succumbed to exhaustion. As soon as the utter silence bled in to the small car, Santana started sobbing. For her mother, her grandmother, Adam, and herself.

"_Shit_," she snapped under her breath, taking her hand away from her face only to see that the back of it was coated in blood from her nose. She practically expected the fucking universe to just implode right then and there and she had to let out a pathetic sort of laugh despite herself. The heavy sobs had left the high schooler heaving and she barely noticed the gentle vibration of her phone as it rang against her hip. She quickly fished it out of her pocket, knowing who it was without even having to look at the caller ID (not that she could with new tears clouding her vision so rapidly).

"Hello?" she managed, softly, searching for something to stop the gush of blood from her nose. Adam's fuzzy giraffe blanket was the only thing within reach, and if circumstances were different, she would have felt like complete and utter shit for grabbing it and pressing it against her face.

"Santana!" concern, panic, and relief all at once flooded from the other end. "Santana, where are you? It's been like…2 hours. Are you alright?"

"Yes…Rachel…I'm…I'm _okay_." She was more okay now having the crazed singer's voice to cling on to but she wasn't quite ready to admit that. "I just had some trouble with Adam's car seat. I'll be over soon." A quick huff from the other side.

"I told you, you should have let me come!"

"And then what? We'd be sitting here looking like complete idiots together, that's real nice." Santana cradled the phone against her shoulder as she repositioned herself in the car, grabbing hold of Adam and setting him in to his car seat, a sudden urgency to just start driving and never stop taking hold of her. The other side of the line had gone quiet.

"…Rachel?"

"You've been crying," she blurted abruptly. Santana could quickly tell Rachel was fighting back emotions of her own and her face grew hot with frustration.

"Yes, okay. I've been crying. But, fuck, Rachel. Don't you think I've earned that much? Huh? What else do I have to lose? Do I have to lose Adam? Do I have to lose you? Do I have to lose Brittany? What the fuck. Could I cry then?"

Santana was practically screaming in to the phone and Adam awoke with a start. He looked like he was about to start crying himself but even in the dark he managed to see that Santana was bleeding and instead his eyebrows shot up in question again.

"Owie," he reached out and took hold of Santana's wrist. "Nana? Ow? Ow, Nana."

After that he just started repeating her name over and over again. _Nana, Nana, Nana_. He grabbed at his giraffe blanket and when he saw the blood that now coated his tiny hand, he started to cry.

"I'm sorry," Santana breathed; unsure of whom exactly the condolence was for.

"Santana, I'm scared. Please, just come." Rachel said it all so quickly that it sounded like one word, as if she was afraid of setting Santana off again. She grabbed the blanket back from Adam which only made him cry louder.

"We'll be there soon."


	2. Chapter 2

Santana had known for a long time that Rachel was being neglected. Not in the sense that she wasn't being fed or clothed or thrown out in to the street. Her dad's were rarely around and, when they were, Rachel felt so detached that she normally only managed a few awkward words of conversation before they were off again. Traveling, living out their 'dream'. While Rachel stayed behind and tried to achieve hers, completely alone.

Santana wasn't really sure how this was all going to work out but she had little time to dwell on it because Adam had fallen asleep almost as soon as she turned the key in the ignition and the only thing that mattered now was that they had a place to stay. The gentle chirping of crickets in the darkness seemed so out of place as she walked with Adam up Rachel's front porch, a backpack and diaper bag balanced on her arm. Rachel was anxiously awaiting and was quick to tug the two inside.

"Oh my god," she squeaked, immediately spotting the blood soaked blanket and dirty streaks along Santana's cheeks.

"I'm fine…it was just a bloody nose. Don't have a god damn coronary, Berry. That's the very last sort of shit I need right now." She let the things she was holding (sans Adam) fall to the ground as she readjusted her sleeping brother in her arms. Rachel, unsure of what to do, just did what was comfortable and let emotion take complete charge, pulling her arms tight around the two of them. Santana let her and, as awkward as it was with Adam squished between them, she was immediately comforted by the gentle caress of Rachel's hands on her back. Rachel nuzzled her face in to Adam's back, savoring the sweet smell of grass and baby powder and little boy. Adam stirred a bit but otherwise remained still in Santana's arms.

"I'm scared, Santana," Rachel confessed for the second time, tears slipping down her cheeks now. The same irritation from before hit Santana hard and she pushed Rachel away.

"How the fuck do you think we feel?" she snapped harshly, using every bit of effort to keep her voice low and steady. As it was Adam has already let out one of his 'something is really concerning me' moans in to Santana's neck at the change of her tone. She started feeling a little dizzy, taking Adam in to Rachel's living room and depositing him on to her couch. She slumped to the ground, her back against Rachel's coffee table.

"I'm so sorry," Rachel sobbed gently, slinking to the floor next to her. "I can't help it."

Santana immediately softened at her words, realizing then that no. Rachel couldn't help it. The dark haired girl next to her was a total mess. It hadn't taken long for her entire face to be soaked in tears and her hands were noticeably shaking as they rested on Santana's knee. She had the overwhelming urge to reach out and stroke Rachel's cheek and was unsure why she was fighting it.

"I know you can't. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, really. It doesn't make any real sense at all…," Rachel babbled on for a minute before standing up and disappearing in to the kitchen. Santana groaned, running a hand through her matted hair and just then realizing how completely exhausted she was. Adam had one arm flung over his head, the other draped across his belly as it steadily rose and fell with his even breathing. Despite the smudge of blood still caked along his fist, Santana felt a small tinge of pride over the fact that she managed to keep him relatively clean that day. The shirt he adorned was one of his very favorites; Mickey mouse driving a race car through various scenes of a comic strip. She thought it was a little ugly but, hey, if it made the kid happy. Rachel returned just as Santana was debating whether or not to get up and look for her. Wordlessly she started stroking Santana's face with a warm wash cloth, her hands now steady as they gently made their way across her over-heated cheeks.

"Remember how scared you were the first time I slept over? When we woke up and I had blood all over my pillow?" Santana murmured softly, a smirk now playing on her lips. A small smile of her own emerged on Rachel's face as she continued to gently wipe at Santana's face. She wasn't sure when it had happened but Santana's hand was positioned on her hip now, rubbing gentle circles at her side.

"Well how was I supposed to know you weren't dying? I thought only boys got bloody noses…,"

Santana smirked, refusing to fight the urge anymore. She reached out and gripped Rachel's neck, pulling her in to a fierce kiss, her hands almost immediately tangling in dark hair. Santana channeled all the anger and loss and frustration she was feeling in to her, shoving Rachel backwards so she was now flush against the couch. She continued kissing her, hard, biting at her neck and listening to the frantic breaths as they left Rachel's mouth. Santana caught sight of Adam then, still sleeping only a few feet away, and reluctantly pulled off of her. She was momentarily surprised to feel Rachel shaking violently beneath her. Her lips felt sore. Tears brimmed in Rachel's eyes again.

_Too much, too soon_. Their situation didn't exactly make things better.

"Sorry," Santana felt herself apologizing again. Rachel let out a surprised whimper when Santana's fingers gently brushed against the hem of her skirt.

"It's okay…really," Rachel insisted quietly. But she was still shaking and her cheeks were now flushed a deep pink. "It's just that…,"

"I know," Santana let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, getting up on her knees before using the coffee table as balance to get on her feet. "You're scared."

There was no vehemence in her voice now. She gently eased her arms under Adam and pulled him to her chest, reaching for the wash cloth that had been abandoned on the coffee table.

"You can sleep in my room," Rachel offered softly, pulling herself up after her. An odd sense of déjà vu threw Santana off for a minute before she reached for her brother's hand and gently cleaned off her blood with the clean end. Rachel was staring up at her earnestly, her eyebrows knitted together in concern that had been present ever since their conversation on the phone. Her wide, doe eyes were again doing wonders to calm Santana's rattled nerves.

"Only if you're there, too," Santana murmured quietly, unsure if she had necessarily wanted those words to be spoken aloud.

Rachel reached for her hand.

* * *

Despite only being on the younger end of two years old, Adam was pretty sturdy. When Santana finally set him down on the trundle off of Rachel's bed that she had quickly made up, the ache in her arms and shoulders set in almost immediately. She caught Rachel around the waist and the two of them fell in to her clean sheets, eyes never leaving the others.

"Thanks for doing this for us," Santana said quietly. "I don't know what the fucks going to happen but, I mean…" She paused.

She didn't really know what she meant but Rachel's breathing was making her sort of dizzy and a familiar pain in her chest was beginning to develop.

Nights were always the hardest.


End file.
